


small streak in the iris of your eye

by deimosun



Series: when you are in love you are always on a railway platform [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deimosun/pseuds/deimosun
Summary: gerard has never been one for jealously. it feels weird crawling under his skin, like it’s its own being regardless of choice and every time neymar bends closer to leo to tell him something he feels it threatening to come up.he doesn’t like it and he wants it gone.or, the uni au where gerifeelsand neymar is. well. neymar.





	

they are sitting on the floor of leo, geri and cesc’s apartment hanging out, playing mario kart, eating all types of junk food and drinking a six pack of beer that has been on the fridge for god knows how long (no one remembers buying it but neymar shrugged, took the cap of one and chugged down half of the bottle in one go).

gerard knows how neymar watches leo and – and it’s dumb, is the thing. he knows leo doesn’t like neymar _like that_ and it doesn’t mean anything but it still won’t stop the pining from spiking up on his blood and from making the beer on his hand taste even more bitter.

and the worst? the worst is that he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. gerard has never been one for jealously. it feels weird crawling under his skin, like it’s its own being regardless of choice and every time neymar bends closer to leo to tell him something he feels it threatening to come up.

he doesn’t like it, and he wants it gone.

 

* * *

 

he met neymar on introductory economy I.

gerard arrives late and slips quietly on his seat, trying to ignore the death glare he’s getting from professor mourinho. for the record (not that anyone cares but) it was cesc’s fault. he was messing around with gerard’s phone the previous day and thought it would be funny to unset all his alarms. _very fucking funny_ , gerard thinks as he’s stared down by the professor.

he grabs his things off his backpack before letting it fall to the floor with a thud. he turns his laptop on and sets it on his desk. when it’s all ready and up for him to take notes, gerard slides down slowly on the chair and lets out a sigh.

someone on his side snorts. he looks at them and it’s a dude, wearing a backwards black snapback and a bright orange tank top. gerard's eyes sting from looking at it for more than five seconds so he squints them.

“why are you laughing at me.” gerard asks, straining his neck long enough to take a look at the stranger’s laptop. “you haven’t noted anything down either!!!”

“well yeah but i wasn’t _late_.”

“boys!” professor mourinho roars, and gerard says a meek _sorry_ before sliding even further down on his chair.

the dude hides a snicker. gerard frowns.

when class finished, he gets hit in the face by a crumpled ball and he’s ready to get into a Fight until he looks up and sees it was the stranger who threw it at him. he makes a mock salute motion with his fingers before turning on his heels and bolting out of the classroom, backpack swinging on his shoulders.

gerard opens the paper and there’s a number scribbled there, together with a name.

neymar.

he smiles and types it on his phone before sticking it inside his jeans’ back pocket.

(while he’s on his way home, he sends neymar a message.

_ur crazy_

all he gets is a _:P_ back.)

 

* * *

 

“you’re a fucking dickhead.” is the first thing he says when he gets home and passes through their front door.

cesc stops shoving cereal from the bowl that is resting on his lap inside his mouth and looks at him. leo keeps snoring from where he’s napping on the coach. his feet are covered under the cushions and he’s got an arm thrown over his eyes.

“as if you don’t know me at all,” cesc says, bits of cornflake flying out of his mouth and onto the carpet.

gerard looks at it slightly disgusted. his phone beeps. cesc's ears perk up.

“who is that?” cesc asks, scrambling to get up so he can have a proper look. maybe. except gerard is a) a lot taller and b) has longer arms so he keeps the phone easily off reach.

(soon enough, a text turns into daily conversations which turns into hanging out sessions which turns into neymar having completely inserted himself on all of their lives. gerard learns quickly that neymar is like a stray dog that just won’t leave and is all bark no bite. no take backs.)

 

* * *

 

it's just –

neymar is so goddamn pretty with his great personality and awesome body and gerard just wants to have him as his own.

he goes along with gerard’s shenanigans. in fact he encourages them, incites them on too and doesn’t back down from a tickle fight. he rolls around and tries to escape using every ammunition on his reach, be it shoving dry autumn leaves on gerard’s face, a kick on the stomach or sucking a hickey on gerard’s neck while letting laughter seep through his teeth, wiggling under the heavy weight over him.

he smiles and puts his arms around gerard’s head, waits until they stop messing around. their breathing is heavy  and gerard is hovering over him.

“what do you wanna,” he asks, looking down. neymar's eyes are greener under the sun and his skin seems to be glowing.

neymar laughs and uses that moment to slide from under him, getting up just out of his grasp.

“i want to win.”

 

* * *

 

so, gerard is pining, and everyone and their moms know it, and he knows it’s stupid and cheesy and dumb but every time neymar throws his head back while laughing he can’t help the smile that pops up unannounced on his own face.

 

* * *

 

neymar has gotten a knew haircut.

it’s shaved on the sides, a mohawk.

gerard walks up to him and messes it up, just because. neymar pretends to try and get out of his grasp even though he actually doesn’t want to.

“i like it,” he says. neymar looks up at him and smiles, nuzzles under his hand and sticks closer to gerard. makes a low noise on his throat and. _oh_.

neymar is looking at him _like that_ , like he does sometimes, like he likes gerard too and it’s dumb and ridiculous so he tackles neymar down towards the sofa and tickles his side until neymar is out of breath and screaming for redemption. his hair is a mess, looking just like if someone had ran their hands through it multiple times.

 

* * *

 

they are together a lot. they get along really well, hit off without a hitch. neymar also really gets along with cesc and leo which makes this entire thing just a huge bonus. they go out for walks and to grab coffee before early classes, go shopping for groceries together and neymar sleeps over more often than he probably should. after the second week he’d wormed his way in gerard’s bed and refused to leave.

(so yeah, they cuddle. whatever. no big deal. friends do it all the time, gerard is sure of it.)

 

* * *

 

since neymar is everywhere, there’s no way to deal with his feelings. it’s impossible to get over it.

he can’t ignore them and he can’t confess them because neymar likes someone else and every time neymar plops down on the sofa with him, shoves his head on gerard’s lap and forces him to watch pirates of the caribbean for the fifth time acts like a reminder of the things he wants but can’t have.

it sucks, yes. it’s like he’s grasping at it but not really, always just a tiny bit out of reach.

but it’s better to have this than to have nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

neymar has got gerard wrapped around his little finger, which does not go unnoticed by neither leo and cesc.

“you’re ridiculous,” leo tells him from where he’s laying down on the sofa and letting cesc play basketball with popcorn and trying to get them right on leo’s mouth.

“don’t i know it.” he says back, looking at the tv. gordon ramsay is yelling something about a geese so undercook it could come back to life and start running around and threatening everyone in that kitchen.

 

* * *

 

they are playing truth or dare.

gerard doesn’t actually remembers how it started. they were at a party, drinking and talking shit, having fun and dancing when suddenly cesc yelled “i have an absolutely BRILLIANT idea!!!” which looking back, should’ve been enough of a warning on its own, he guesses.

right now, it's neymar’s turn.

“geri, truth or dare.”

he thinks about it. neymar was looking quite defiantly towards that mold spot at the bottom corner of the wall on the previous round so he’s really not in the mood to get a fungal infection. or lick any strange objects, for that matter.

“truth.”

neymar smirks like he’s just won the lottery. _shit_ , gerard thinks just as neymar asks “do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”.

the boys around them erupt in cheers like “C’MON BRO” “NO LYING INNIT!”. he hears cesc cackling madly on the background of everything. his best friend is a complete asshole.

 “yes.” he grumbles, and the cheers get even louder. this time a long, dragged “oh!!!” seems to be a crowd favorite.

neymar is staring at him though and fires back “who is it?” before gerard even finishes laughing with all the mocking directed at him that is going on.

he looks curious. maybe kind of annoyed for wasting a question?. _aha!!!_ gerard thinks, and stares back.

“only one question at time dude. now it’s my turn. jordi, truth or dare?”

 

* * *

 

it's some time after, a lot of time after (maybe? he lost track of it hours ago). neymar has been gone for a while, said he wanted to go to the bathroom. still hasn’t come back.

gerard gets up from the floor and stumbles a bit, his knees having had gone dormant from kneeling down for so long. everyone else is scattered around, some in the balcony smoking, some on the living room watching an old clásico replay that’s being shown on cable. he walks down the corridor and stops in front of the bathroom, knocking on it once before opening.

neymar is there.

“what are you doing? how long have you been here,” he asks, after he gets in and closes the door behind him. neymar looks at him like he’s dumb and makes an impatient noise.

“geri, i – i want,” he says, looking at gerard for a few seconds of tense silence before going in for a kiss.

gerard is surprised but this. he’s wanted this for so long and now it’s finally here, neymar soft and warm against him, opening his mouth and letting gerard lick into it, slow and hot and slick.

there's rustling of clothes and zippers being opened, gerard’s hand roaming under neymar’s gray tee and scratching at his abs just a tiny bit. neymar melts against him, sweet like molasses. he gets a hand around both of them and neymar whimpers against his mouth.  

“i want you,” gerard mumbles against neymar’s lips, his hand working tight and wet. neymar is clawing at gerard’s shirt, trying to get a grip and to keep himself up. their breaths are heavy and loud on the small bathroom,

“come on geri uh,” neymar moans, and gets on his tiptoes again so he can get one more kiss. “i want – i want this, come on.”

when they come, neymar throws his head back and it hits the tiles with a thud. they take some minutes to take their respiration back to normal and their heart rate under control.

“you coming home with me?” gerard asks, biting his lower lip. he has a hand on neymar’s waist, rubbing circles on the skin with his thumb.

“yeah.” neymar murmurs, and puts both hands on gerard’s neck before looking him in the eye again. “yeah i am.”

 

* * *

 

it's six am in the morning and gerard is up already. he’s in the kitchen, sitting on the stool against the countertop.

neymar stumbles towards into it then, wearing a discarded shirt he picked up from the floor (which by how big it feels on him it must be gerard’s) and boxers from last night. his hair is up and sticking on all directions. gerard can feel his heart swelling with fondness. he looks sleepy and warm and soft.

they stay in silence for some seconds.

“i didn’t know you wanted me,” neymar says, looking at him. he walks closer and grabs gerard’s hands with his own. they are tiny in comparison. “and you weren’t on the bed.”

“i thought you liked leo.”

neymar bites his lip and shakes his head, gets on his tiptoes and kisses gerard on the lips, soft and close mouthed and quick before stepping away again.

“i think i did. for some time. i guess. but. i was wrong. that never, ever felt nowhere near like this, like how i feel right now.”

he nods and it’s quiet then, the morning sun filtering through the window and setting a soft glow over things.

“i want you to be mine, too.” gerard says quietly.

neymar murmurs an “ok,” before getting on his tiptoes to kiss him properly, finally.

 

* * *

 

things stay pretty much the same. they hang out just as much, play fight just as much and talk shit just as much. except there’s a lot of kissing and sex going on now, too. they make out all the time, everywhere. nothing is sacred ground. leo and cesc most definitely have seen enough pda for an entire lifetime.

gerard has always a hand on neymar, touching him – holding his hand or touching his waist or touching his arm, keeping him close and warm, happy and sated.

 

* * *

 

geri wakes up alone.

which is not unsual, you know, taking in consideration he has his own room on the flat. thank god they all overcame that horrid time in freshmen year where he, cesc and leo all had to share a bed for two weeks. it was a nightmare.

but neymar slept over last night, slept on his bed but mostly on him, neymar's head tucked under his neck and neymar's legs intertwined with his own. even though neymar's toes are colder than a bunch of fucking ice cubes, and neymar insist on sticking them against geri's calves even though geri has protested against this action multiple times before in multiple ways but neymar just snorts and shoves those popsicles he calls finger under geri's warm soft sweater.

life is not fair at all.

he sprawls himself on the bed, stretches his back and sticks his arms high over his head, feels his muscles pulling and a lethargic feeling that doesn't even fully installs itself before it's gone, letting out a deep sigh and letting his limbs fall on the bed with a thud. it's still kind of warm on his right side, so he figures neymar hasn't been up for long.

rolling towards the side of the bed, geri gets up and finds his slippers quickly before his feet loses all of their warmth and scratches at his belly absentmindedly before lacing the strings of his sweatpants together. he shuffles out of the room and towards the kitchen, intending on grabbing a cup of water and joining neymar wherever he is right now (could be on the shower, or playing football on the small park of the condos, or messing up with geri's game on call of duty. who knows).

instead he finds neymar propped upon the counter by the side of the fridge, struggling to open a can of something and still looking sleepy and bleary eyed and so soft, like he just woke up and could go back to sleep any second. geri wants to kiss him stupid.

instead, he watches neymar fight against the can for a few more seconds before laughing and finally stepping into the linoleum floor, going up to him and grabbing the can, opening it and taking a gulp.

"babe," geri asks. "why are you drinking red bull at fuck o'clock in the morning."

"it's not fuck o'clock in the morning," neymar answers, slightly annoyed at being seen in such a ridiculous position. like he needs a reminder he is the small one in this relationship, ok. he snatches the drink from geri's hand and staring at it quite angrily. "and i wanted to go for a run, but this fucking stupid seal just wouldn't open so i could get an energy boost."

geri corners neymar and pulls at the hem of his shirt until neymar puts the can by his side and jumps on the counter, spreading his legs open so his boyfriend can fit in-between them.

"why didn't you wake me up so i would go with you?" geri complains, and while this is jokingly he is kind of put off because when doesn't he want to do things with neymar like. ever.

neymar snorts and hooks his legs around geri's thighs, pulls him even closer and kisses him on the mouth, slow and sweet and after tasting the energy drink on his mouth he pulls away, makes a face.

"because you needed the rest."

geri doesn't disagree with that because exams week is a bitch, but still. running with neymar on the park where they can later tackle each other and play fight and end up making out against the tree near the football pitch is never something he'd consciously turn down.

geri hums and kisses neymar again, one hand against his neck and one hand holding his waist firmly.

"i still can't believe you lost a fight to an aluminum can," geri mumbles against neymar lips, who slaps him on the shoulder and bites his jaw.

"shut up geri! i'm not even fully awake and you're already bullying me."

he laughs and tickles neymar, who ends up jumping a bit too high and hits his head on the top cupboard. geri stops immediately and widens his eyes, almost comically and neymar wants to laugh a bit because it didn't even hurt that much, but geri's reaction is priceless.

"shit ney oh my god i'm sorry," he babbles and tries to kiss neymar on the top of the head where he hit it as some sort of healing act.

"you're awful," neymar tells him. he digs his toes against the back of geri's thighs. "take me to bed. i'll need to rest all day after this horrible injury you made me sustain."

geri doesn't even complain, just nods and picks neymar up by his thighs and walks carefully back towards the bedroom, being double careful to not hit neymar anywhere.

neymar sighs when he is let down gently on the bed and when there is a warm body next to him, warming his cold hands and putting a blanket around and over them both.

“i’m sorry,” geri says again, for good measure.

neymar kisses him and mumbles against his lips “go the fuck to sleep”.


End file.
